Preying On Time has been released, but if you can’t see a reason to clicking your way through for a sample…
Well, here’s the prologue to get you guys started.
He ran, fire streaming through his tightened lungs, his eyes wide, pupils dilated with fear, the sound of feral feet thundering not far behind.
Growls tore at his ears from all sides, bouncing as echoes, stabbing his trembling skin. It was like something from a nightmare. If only he could wake up. Hackled laughter issued in his wake, inhuman and derisive with the thrill of the chase. Shivers spiked down his taut spine. Any bravery he had was burning up, disintegrating like the oxygen in his overworked lungs.
Keep going. Keep going.
Blood bleated a siren warning in his veins. He panted hard, his throat raw. There was no time to look back. He could only look forward. His gaze snatched at every square of space, trying to find somewhere to hide. Anywhere to hide. But there was nowhere.
And soon there would be nowhere left to run.
They were getting closer.
The strange sky glared down at him, a violent mixture of black and purple, two slit eye sickles glowering at him in a face full of sadistic rage. It was a hateful place that he didn’t know. What he did know was to run. Whoever had brought him to this world wanted him dead.
Faster. Faster! Come on!
The snarls seemed to echo all around him. His muscles burned in agony, pleading for him to stop but if he stopped it was game over. A whimper of fear crawled out of his throat. Formal shoes still beat down on the strange earth, creaking with the uncomfortable stiffness of new leather, puddles shattering below each thrashed sole.
It had happened so fast.
The sunlight had been pouring over him in a golden river of hibiscus scent, wrapping around the congregation. The whole event had been joyous and beautiful. The flower girls had chased through the bridesmaids skirts amidst the bubble and froth of tinkling laughter. The singing and dancing had just started to take part when he’d felt that horrible sensation like a rush of blood to the head…
Now he was here.
Now he was running for his life.
A carnation trampled underfoot, loosed from his buttonhole as he pushed onwards. Wrought leg muscles screamed in pain with their attempt to seize up and stop all motion. But he couldn’t stop. If he stopped he was a dead man. His offbeat shoes drummed the floor, black polish scuffed and marked. His throat raw and constricted, he tried to release his tie but it was unyielding, like a noose.
As soon as he’d clapped eyes on them he’d known something was wrong. It had all happened so fast. His head pounded. Had he been drugged?
The sunlight in the garden had flickered to dark too quickly. He couldn’t remember anything in between. All he knew was the headache and the murderous expressions on their faces when he’d finally told them his name.
He was the ‘wrong one’.
A low, excited howl curled out of the darkness. He tried to speed up but his body was nearly spent. They were wolves. He couldn’t believe that they were wolves. But he’d seen it. He’d seen them do it. Monsters. He crashed around another corner, pushing away thoughts of what they could be and only thinking of escape.
He turned to go back, but there they were. There was no way out. Panic. It was all walls. Just walls everywhere.
He looked around desperately but there was no escape. There was only them.
They prowled closer. Yellow eyes flashed as sharp teeth shone in the pale light. Fur bristled along their spines. Low growls emanated from their throats. Such devilish beasts.
He heard himself plead with them, not knowing if they could understand him.
But there was no mercy.
Thick pads left the floor, leaping onto him with guttural snarls and howls of feral delight. His body went down. Teeth clamped around his throat and tore. Scarlet spattered and sprayed. He writhed, the blood bubbling and frothing in his open throat as he tried to scream, limbs thrashing against the stone floor. Gurgling crimson. Eyes glazed over, glassy with his dying cries.
The wolves ripped and savaged. Blood leaked from the gash, slowly dribbling down the sloped cement to the main walkway, a river of black in the darkness. The tall buildings hid the feast from all but the overhanging moons.
Once finished and sated, the beasts paddled through the blood back onto the main path, fleeing into the shadows, observed only by the invisible shadow of death.
Maybe if you guys are good I’ll let you peek at Chapter One, too, but for now this will have to do. If you can’t wait, though, you should check out the page dedicated to Preying On Time where you can find information to buy the ebook (so far…)
There may be a paperback surprise in the future, though!
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